


Janus

by fowl68



Series: Janus [1]
Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Family, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Movie(s), Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fowl68/pseuds/fowl68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He reminds her of someone she had known in another life, a thief who'd been a brother and a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Janus

* * *

_If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it.  
~Mary Engelbreit_

* * *

 

She's seen his posters everywhere, has heard of his misdeeds and had naturally become outraged when she heard of his stealing the crown of her daughter, the one she never got to really meet and see and laugh with. He's a criminal, a thief, little more than a mercenary.

But looking at him now, as she embraces her daughter for the first time in eighteen years, he doesn't look like any of those things. He looks small and his eyes are downcast. He looks lonely.

So she holds an arm out in invitation and he looks like he can't believe what she's doing. He begins to take a step and falters, as though sure that she would snatch her hand back and leave him standing alone again. So she stretches her arm out a little farther, making it a silent command and he sort of, but not really, darts into the group hug and she thinks that Flynn Rider seems very much like a child then.

* * *

 

Rapunzel insists that he's a good person, but the Queen finds it a little difficult to believe. There have been few signs of that lonely child from the balcony in the weeks since Rapunzel's return. Flynn is charming and mischievous, though he puts on a polite face for her and her husband.

She catches him reading one night, which was an activity she'd begun thinking that he didn't really enjoy. He's comfortably sprawled on one of the armchairs in the library, several candles lit on tables nearby. "Fancy meeting you here."

Flynn flushed. "Good evening, your Highness."

"Good evening, Flynn. What are you reading?"

He averted his eyes, but held the book up enough so that she could read the title. _The Tales of Flynnigan Rider_.

"An interesting choice."

He shrugged a little helplessly. "This may come as a surprise, your Highness, but I'm not the best at reading. This is the only book I ever really cared to read more than once, or at all." It had been so very long since he'd read it, his own copy still at the orphanage, hidden beneath floorboards and collecting dust.

"Well, I thought it was an interesting choice because it was one of my favorites as a child."

He glanced up at her. "Yeah?"

"Oh yes." She pulled up another armchair. The library was one of her favorite rooms; the scent of the old pages, the lingering warmth of the room after being doused in afternoon sunlight. It was where she went on nights like tonight, when sleep evaded her. "Which story are you on?"

"The fight against the pirate invaders."

"The one where he first meets his lady?"

Flynn nodded, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. "The very same."

"That is my favorite one. Would you mind reading aloud, Flynn? It's been quite a while since I could enjoy these stories."

"Of course, your Highness. And…my name is Eugene."

"Eugene?" He ducked his head in embarrassment again, but he nodded. Yes, she could imagine the teasing and bullying for a name like that. Children could be cruel sometimes. "I think it's a lovely name."

He peered up at her through the corner of his eye. "Really, your Highness?"

"Absolutely. And please, call me Rachel."

He smiled. "A lovely name for a lovely lady."

She laughed, unable to help it. Even thieves could be charming, she supposed, and it was nice to hear a compliment like that from someone you weren't married to. "Go on and start reading or we'll be here all night."

"Yes ma'am." He settled back into the armchair _just so_ before beginning to read. He was a wonderful reader, bringing the words to life in a way that her tutors had never been able to. If this was the face he put on with her daughter, it was very easy to see why she would like him.

* * *

Rapunzel didn't like being fitted for dresses. As the tailor adjusted a hem, she twisted trying to see her back in one of the long mirrors.

"Hold still, princess," The tailor said, mouth full of pins. "Honestly, you're worse than a city lad being fitted for his first pair of breeches."

"It doesn't look right," Rapunzel objected, trying not to move instinctively because she'd never been able to sit still very long. The Queen— _her mother_ —assured her that she took after her father like that. "I look like a boy in a girl's dress."

"That's because we've done nothing with your hair, lady. Hold still!"

Rapunzel hadn't allowed anyone to touch her newly cropped locks and she was still a little jumpy about anyone really touching her at all. Except for Eugene. He touched her casually, without thinking about it, and she never seemed to mind.

After the dress had been properly fitted, they had to practice sitting in it. "You sit like a man," the etiquette tutor complained. "You'll rumple your skirts if you sit that way. Sweep them out—like this—and sit with them spread around you. Keep your feet together. And back straight, don't slouch."

Rapunzel ended up nearly flat on her back trying to keep up with all of her instructions. As Rachel bent to help her up, she smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not very good at being a lady."

"This is nothing. You should hear the stories your father could tell you about when I was learning court manners. I ended up on the floor more times than I can count. And once, I accidentally hit my tutor in the nose with all my flailing and trying to get my balance."

Rapunzel giggled a little. "Really? I suppose I'm not _that_ bad then."

"I think that's a matter of opinion." Both women turn to see Eugene's head poking around the door. "Am I allowed in?"

"I don't suppose it would stop you if we said no?" Rapunzel said, hands on her hips.

"Haven't you heard, blondie? It's better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"You just asked permission," her daughter pointed out.

Eugene shrugged. "I like to have my bases covered. What were you guys _doing_ in here anyway? Sounded like a warzone from downstairs."

Rapunzel did a little spin, her skirts swirling around her. "I was getting fitted for a new dress." The look on her face told Eugene just what she thought of that and he barked a laugh. "What do you think?"

He tilted his head, studying her _(The Queen has seen Rapunzel do the very same action and she wonders who got it from whom)_. The dress is dark green, with a few lighter shades worked into the area around her waist and along the sleeves and it brought out her eyes. But what he says with a mischievous smile is, "It'll be hard to tell that there are grass stains on it."

Rapunzel's answering grin was full of a childlike mischief that the Queen had not yet become accustomed to. They were both still children in so very many ways.

* * *

She comes into her daughter's room one sweltering summer afternoon to find them sitting cross-legged on the bed, the balcony doors open to entice a breeze inside, playing cards. Or rather, Eugene is teaching her to play cards.

Rapunzel smiles when she sees her, but she has yet to call the Queen 'mother'. _(Rachel pretended it didn't bother her. But it hurt and she knew that it was unfair to think of it that way. It wasn't Rapunzel's fault)_  Eugene turns and it's with a casually tense air and Rachel knows that the thief still doesn't entirely feel comfortable inside the castle.

"What's the game?" she asks, eyeing the cards on the bed. They're an old deck, water-stained and worn about the edges.

"Palace," Rapunzel replies. "It so much fun!"

"I haven't heard of this game."

"It's a…a game we used to play a lot in the orphanage," Eugene says. "Some of the older kids taught it to me."

"Would you teach me?"

"Lady?" Eugene blinked in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"I thought I told you to call me Rachel, Eugene."

"Lady Rachel," he insisted and she really couldn't argue with that. They scoot over to make room for her and she tucks her skirts beneath her. He shuffles with the easy grace of someone who plays cards often as he explains, "Everyone gets nine cards…"

* * *

 

She nearly has a heart attack when she comes into her daughter's bedroom one winter morning to find Rapunzel standing on several chairs, a can of paint in one hand, a paintbrush in the other. She's wearing a shirt that's several sizes too large for her and her bare feet poke out from beneath the hems of breeches.

She doesn't hear Eugene come up beside her. The man walks as silently as a cat. She's only ever known one other person that could walk like that. "Well, at least _someone_ can get my nose right."

Rapunzel's laugh trailed down to them like a mane of golden hair. "Well, who else knows you better?"

Eugene circles around her to get a better look at the mural. When the Queen mimics him, she sees exactly what the mural was, though she doesn't quite understand it. There is a tower, white and tall like it wanted to rival the heavens. There is a trail of gold coming out of a window and it takes her a moment to realize that it must be her daughter's hair, when it was long and blonde.

The tower appears again, and this time there's a shadow scaling it. Eugene points at that one, murmuring something to Rapunzel and she laughs. The most that Rachel can pick up is something about arrows and climbing.

There's an arch where a distant castle is painted, with warm glowing orbs floating into the sky. "It's what I always wanted to see," Rapunzel explains. "In person, I mean. I could see it just fine from my window, but it's not the same, y'know?"

Eugene goes strangely quiet and still at that. "No," he murmurs. "No, it isn't."

The murals go on. There is a lovingly painted one of Maximus, proud and with a…sword in his mouth? Eugene catches the expression on Rachel's face. He grins. "Long story."

And there, the inside of a dim tavern, a pianist with a hook for a hand on the stage, a smiling blotchy faced man and other general ruffians. And there, practically in the center of it all, is a head of long blonde hair and right by her side is Eugene, in his blue vest. The sign over the bar reads _The Snuggly Duckling_.

Seeing the look on her mother's face, Rapunzel assures her that they are actually very nice people. "They helped us get away when the guards came."

It's strange to think of her daughter as a fugitive-by-association. There's a red-brown canyon and something painted dark, pitch black-blue with her hair a bright glow down until the wall met the floor. There's a small fire and Eugene sitting with Rapunzel on a thick tree root. Rachel wonders if she imagines the silhouette barely discernable from the other shadows towards the back.

Then there's the one that Rapunzel is working on now. A boat with two half-finished shapes in it on a shimmering lake. There are orange outlines for what Rachel knows are lanterns. The lanterns.

When words finally make their way from her mouth, the only one is, "Why?"

Rapunzel turns to her, confused. "Why what?"

"Why the murals?"

"It's the story of us. Besides, I like to paint."

"There's paper and canvas for that you know." She's very aware of Eugene watching this exchange carefully, probably cataloguing everything for future reference.

Rapunzel doesn't shrug, but she looks down at her bare feet, curling her toes absentmindedly. She says something, but Rachel can't hear what it is.

"Speak up, please, Rapunzel. I can't hear you if you mumble," she says, not unkindly, yet her daughter flinches anyway, dropping the paintbrush. Eugene catches it with quick hands, but he seems tenser, eyes colder.

"I-I said that…paper doesn't have enough space. Neither does c-canvas."

"Sweetie," The word feels strange on her tongue, but it feels right to use it. "Is something wrong?"

Rapunzel's eyes are wide and haunted when she looks at her. "N-no. Nothing. Just got cold all of a sudden is all." She hooks a smile on her face _(Eugene could tell right away it was false)_. "Looks like there really is something to bare feet and being cold. Who knew?"

She scurries down from her makeshift ladder, setting the paint can down before going to her closet to get a robe. Eugene sets the brush on top of the can before saying, "If you dress really warm, I'll take you out to see the snow."

Rapunzel turns to look at him, looking a little calmer. "Snow? Seriously?" It's something she's only ever heard about and glimpsed from her window.

"Yup. That's why I came to get you. It fell last night and I figured you should get the chance to play in it." Sometimes, Eugene is the indulgent older brother. Other times, Rachel isn't sure whether the two have progressed to a romantic relationship yet.

Rapunzel beams and begins layering clothes before stuffing her shoes into warm, knee-high boots. "What're we waiting for?"

* * *

 

Eugene finds her after dinner that night. "Do they bother you?"

"What?"

"The murals. Do they really bother you?"

"They don't bother me. I suppose…it's just been a long time since I lived outside the castle. I've heard about 'proper' things for the past twenty odd years, you know. Painting on the walls was never one of the proper things."

"One of these days, when she's busy and distracted all day, I'll take you to the tower. You need to see it."

"…You met her, right? The woman who kidnapped her?"

Eugene glances up, eyes unreadable. "Yes, I did."

"Did she…take good care of her?"

Eugene takes so long to answer that the Queen starts to think he isn't going to say anything at all. Finally, he replies, "As far as food and a roof over her head…yeah. She was taken care of." Rapunzel's upbringing was better than he'd had. She'd been fed regularly and never had to sleep in the gutter, but she'd been trapped. He doesn't think he could ever give up his freedom. Not for anything. _(That was Flynn talking. Eugene would stay. For Rapunzel, he'd stay.)_

* * *

 

He's awake as soon as he heard the door open. Except the weight sounds off. It wasn't the sturdy door that led to the hallway, but the glass-paned one to the balcony. On instinct, there's a knife in his hand.

"Eugene?"

He relaxesd, releasing the knife and slipping it back under his pillow. "Rapunzel. What're you doing here?"

She looked very small, silhouetted against the door like she was. "…I can still hear her sometimes."

"What?"

"Mot—Gothel. I still hear her."

Eugene knew what that felt like. He'd never been kidnapped and lied to for eighteen years, but sometimes, if he stared too long at the ceiling in the dark, the ceiling would warp into the cracked, splintering one of the orphanage, with its dank spaces and dim lights and its cramped corners. If the silence was loud enough at night, he could hear the matron's shrill voice or the loud whispers of the other boys across the room.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing with a cracking of his knees. "I know what you mean."

She blinked at him. "You do?"

" _Mm_ hm. And you know what I do when that kind of thing happens?" She shook her head. "Follow me."

She did without question, even when it's out onto the balcony, up the trellis, over the gutter and onto the roof. The tiles were still cold and damp from this morning's rain, but they managed not to slip, despite their bare feet and loose sleepwear.

Rapunzel was comfortable in high places, he knew. She'd spent her entire life in a tall tower. If anything, she was more uncomfortable on the ground.

"You can see everything from here," she said, a small smile on her lips.

"And you know the best part?"

"You can't hear a thing."

"You read my mind, blondie."

* * *

 

The guards dragged him bodily before the King and Queen. "We caught him with the princess."

Obviously. The two were close. The guard must have figured out what he said, because he added, "In his room. She said she's been there all night."

"And _I've_ been telling them that they've got the wrong idea!" Eugene exclaimed. "Yes, we slept together. That's all we did. _Sleep._ She was having nightmares."

"And why should I believe you?" The King was usually a rather reasonable man. Indeed, he'd gotten along with Rider on more than a few occasions, but right now, his protective instincts are roaring inside him.

Eugene didn't miss a beat. "Because I care about her just as much as you do."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is." They all whirled to look at Rapunzel, suddenly confident and _radiant_ in her anger. She was still in her nightgown, her hair tangled and knotty from sleep. "I couldn't sleep so I went to him. What's the problem?"

"It's improper for—"

"Improper?" Rapunzel said incredulously. This was the only time her temper really showed, was when she's defending him. He tried not to feel too pleased about that. "It's Eugene! It's not like we haven't slept together before. Just because we're here now rather than in the forest, things should change?"

When she put it like that, it did sound a little silly. And the Queen knew that Eugene wouldn't take advantage of her. Not ever. "She's right. Eugene, I apologize for this."

Her husband stared at her. "Rachel—"

"You, all of you," She made sure to look pointedly at the guards too. "Were overreacting." She hesitated before saying her next words. "Rapunzel is an adult. She can make her own decisions."

Eugene stared at her. He understood more about court life than Rapunzel, understood that she was making an enormous concession, allowing this. She trusted him.

Rapunzel's anger quickly deflated—she's not one for holding grudges—and she asked if the drama was all done for the morning, could they have breakfast? It made Eugene burst into laughter because that was so very _Rapunzel_ , so very much his blondie that he couldn't help himself.

* * *

 

Rapunzel catches Flynn's itchy fingers often. _(She could see the difference between Flynn and Eugene and no difference at all)_ He can't help it really. The castle is so full of shiny and valuable things, things that are really doing little more than collecting dust in many cases, that he wants to take them. Take them and sell them to the highest bidder because were the King and Queen really going to miss another useless knick-knack?

She doesn't berate him for it and he asks her why once. He had been a thief, still is a thief if one were to ask the majority of the population. She looks genuinely baffled and asks, "Why should I?"

"I'm a thief, blondie." The nickname isn't really appropriate anymore, but he's the only one who's ever called her that. It's almost like a little game between them, one that was all theirs.

Rapunzel shrugs. "But you're a good person too. Call the thievery a spicy touch."

"Spicy?"

"Well, it's not bitter and it's not sweet."

Her logic seems so straightforward when she says it aloud, but when he tries to think about it, it seems almost absurd. Almost. "Yeah, spicy fits."

* * *

 

"Have I ever mentioned that all these fine clothes are distinctly itchy?" Eugene—no, that is a Flynn remark. Rachel is beginning to learn the difference—mutters at one of many balls that were politically correct to host because Rapunzel was of a marrying age and she needed suitors.

Although, if one were to ask the Queen, she would say that she already had a suitor. He was charming and kind and could be childlike and an adult all at once. Oh, and he used to be a thief.

"No, I don't believe you have." She replies, sipping at some wine. "I thought you would like to be dressed in some finery, Flynn."

Yes, Flynn would like the finery, would see it as so very removed from the life he'd left behind. But Eugene…"I'm a surprisingly simple person when it comes to stuff like this."

"I'm sure."

A smile is twisting at his lips. "You sound like you don't believe me."

"I'm certain that you are mishearing things."

He chuckles, taking a bite of one of those finger sandwiches _(Really, he'd said earlier that evening, what's the point of making so many small sandwiches when you can make a fewer bigger ones?)_. Rapunzel slips her arm into the crook of his elbow and he offers her one of the sandwiches automatically.

She shakes her head. "No, thank you. I just needed to hide."

"Possible suitors?" Eugene asks. Rapunzel wrinkles her nose, making him laugh. "I'm sure they're not _all_ bad. What about…Eric? He's not bad looking."

Eric is tall and lean and one of the best archers in his home kingdom. "He's under the distinct impression that women should be seen and not heard."

"An automatic no then. There aren't any nice ones?"

"Some of them. Thomas and William are. The twins," she adds, seeing the lack of recognition on his face. They'd watched from an alcove as the princes entered the castle and the twins had been noted as possibly interesting.

"I feel a 'but' coming after that."

Rapunzel smiles. " _But_ …I don't know. They're just…nice. I'd even like to make friends with them. I just don't see myself marrying them or any of them, really."

"That's because you've already been exposed to me. It's very difficult for other men to match up to this." Flynn gestures at himself and Rapunzel has to clap a mouth over her hand to stop from bursting out laughing.

"Yes, you are not arrogant at all," Rachel says dryly.

"Is it arrogance if I'm being truthful?"

The Queen laughs along with her daughter, though truthfully, she hopes that Eugene is right, that Rapunzel can't find anyone other than him. He's a good man, somehow, despite his itchy fingers and less-than-regal past.

* * *

 

"Lady Rachel," Eugene began one day, nearly a year and a half after her first meeting of him. "If I were to say that…I was…courting—yes, I suppose that's the word I'm looking for—courting Rapunzel…what would you say?"

"Is this a hypothetical conversation?"

"…No. Not really."

"It either is or isn't," she said, amused.

"Well, I haven't really gotten around to courting her yet. I was…thinking about it."

"In that case, then I would say 'What are you waiting for?'"

"Lady?"

"You think me blind? I have seen the way you look at her since the moment you came here."

"And you didn't say anything? Why?"

"I thought I might be misinterpreting. And I wanted to make sure you were worthy of her before I said anything."

"And what do you think of me now?" he asked quietly. He had a look that was both childlike and yet mature; like he was expecting rejection and rebuttal.

"I think that...she could not have found a man more worthy."

Eugene's grin was brilliant and heartstopping.

* * *

 

The first time that Rachel sees them together—really _together—_ is an afternoon in the autumn. They're walking through the gardens. The leaves are red and golden, the trees thick and strong. She glimpses them from her balcony when she steps out for air after a long meeting.

They don't hold hands, aren't touching each other, yet they are so very clearly together. Something makes Rapunzel laugh, yet she shoves him playfully. Then Eugene wraps an arm around her small shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

Her husband comes up beside her. "They do not act like they are in love."

"You think not?"

"I don't remember acting as they do."

Rachel smiles and leans her hip on the balcony. "Perhaps you are simply getting old."

The corners of his lips quirk upwards, slightly lopsided. "You remember us acting like that?"

"Constantly. As I recall, you seemed determined not to leave town until you'd won me."

The King smiles fondly in remembrance. His wife is a stubborn sort, always has been—not unlike their daughter. She'd been a bit attached to her life in the village, a small place that he never would have visited otherwise had it not been for the yearly festival there; a life with her sister who had been her only family left in the world.. She had been a lovely dancer, urged onto the dance floor only by her younger sister's laughing insistence. "And you were very hard to win, rest assured."

"Well, I couldn't allow the future king to think that everyone in the world would fall in line at his feet, now could I? It would have gotten you little more than a swelled head, which is something you certainly didn't need."

"I was rather arrogant at the time, wasn't I?"

"Only then?"

He chuckles and slips his arm about her waist, tucking her into his side. "Well, perhaps a bit now as well."

"Don't worry about them," she says, catching sight of the look on her husband's face as his attention once again returns to their daughter. "He won't do wrong by her."

"I wonder how this thief earned your trust," the King says, leaning his forearms on the rail. "I remember, vaguely, how difficult it was."

"Well, not all thieves are bad men. I had a friend that was a thief growing up."

"Did you? I didn't know that."

"Oh yes." Rachel pauses; it's been a long time since she's thought about him. Had never so much as mentioned him to anyone besides her sister. "He was more than that too. He was a brother to me for the longest time, the oldest in our group of friends."

"Why have I never heard you talk about him before now?"

"…Because he wasn't fortunate enough to have been pardoned by the King," Rachel says quietly. "They hanged him. A week before his nineteenth birthday. I was twelve."

"I'm sorry."

"It's long over now. I'm just saying that there is more to people than we would think. And…I forgot that, after living here for so long."

The King sighs. "I'll stop being so protective." Seeing the look on her face, he amends, "I'll _try_ to stop being so overprotective."

* * *

 

"He asked me to marry him."

Rachel raised her eyes to look at her daughter. She had thrown a dressing robe over her nightgown and was determinedly not looking at her. "…Is this a bad thing?"

"I…don't know. I don't even know what it would _mean_ to be married."

"That's something you have to figure out on your own, to be quite honest. But, the real question you have to ask yourself is if you can see yourself living with him, possibly for the rest of your life."

Rapunzel sat in the armchair beside her, drawing her knees up to her chest. "It's not if I love him?"

"There are many different kinds and levels of love. Love doesn't guarantee a life together. When did he ask you?"

"Last night, before I went to bed. I didn't know what to say and I…sort of slammed the door in his face."

Rachel chuckled. "Goodness, the boy must be nervous out of his mind by now."

"I don't have to say 'yes', do I?"

"No, my darling, you don't." Slowly, she pushed loose locks of her daughter's hair behind her ear, smoothing it back. "But you have to tell him _something_."

Rapunzel sighed, resting her cheek on her knees. "It's not going to be easy to tell him 'I don't know'."

"If he's the man I think he is, then he won't think less of you."

* * *

 

Rachel doesn't see a change in their relationship, despite the fact that Eugene asks Rapunzel several more times. And yet, every time, Rapunzel ends up curled up in an armchair in her mother's sitting room. They don't talk very much at those times, simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the morning.

It's three years to the day that the guard ran in, panting, to tell them of two visitors claiming to have found the lost princess. The annual lantern festival is once again underway, though now, there is a new tale circulating through the town. Now, the lanterns aren't said to be a way home, but rather are rumored to be able make dreams come true.

Eugene and Rapunzel row out to the lake and are having dinner on the far shore, as has become their tradition. Eugene leans back on one arm. "Marry me," he says casually.

Rapunzel whips her head around to look at him, her eyes wide and bright in the darkness. "Surely you aren't serious?"

He grins easily at her, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away. "I am serious, but don't call me Shirley."

Rapunzel snorts a laugh despite herself. She looks at him, really looks at him. He's still the same handsome man who'd climbed through her window, who'd turned her life so upside down that he'd made it right-side up. Her mother—she can start thinking of the Queen as her mother now, though the words still feel strange in her mouth—had said that she should say yes only if she could imagine living with him for the rest of her life.

Can she? She already wakes up beside him most mornings and, while he snores, it isn't enough to annoy her. Can she share everything with him? She already does. He's her best friend, more than that. Does she love him? She thinks she does, not that she has much to compare it to. Can she imagine building a _life_ with this man?

"Yes."

* * *

 

When Rapunzel tells them the news—there is no ring, not yet. Eugene is under stern orders not to steal it _(Flynn had grinned lazily and asked 'Would I really do such a thing?')_ —they wrap their arms around her, and this time, Rachel does not see Eugene standing off to the side like a lonely child. Now, he stands aside as a man, quiet and smiling gently at them.

Regardless, Rachel extends an arm and this time, he accepts the invitation without hesitating.


End file.
